


Come Hot from Hell

by gypsydancergirl (hauntedlittledoll)



Series: Double Double Toil and Trouble [10]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Shakespeare is My Second Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-11
Updated: 2012-08-11
Packaged: 2017-11-14 05:20:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/511751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hauntedlittledoll/pseuds/gypsydancergirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The First Task concerns dragons which both intrigues and worries Castiel.</p><p>However, all is not lost, for Hogwarts Champion, Dean Winchester, has a plan!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Hot from Hell

**Author's Note:**

> Title borrowed from Shakespeare's "Julius Caesar."

Dean hadn’t spoken to Castiel in months.  Some might consider Castiel’s distress overly dramatic as the Summer Holidays were three months long, but when a person’s best friend was actually living with them for that duration . . . three months was a very long time.

Sam had been playing the anxious peacemaker all summer; the trauma of being kidnapped, half-killed, and losing his father all at once creating a clingy side to the formerly-independent twelve year old.  In the interest of sparing Sam, Castiel decided to just give Dean the space the younger boy wanted.  It couldn’t hurt.

Only it was now a month into term and the firstborn of the Singer and Winchester clans were still communicating solely through their younger siblings.  Worse, the Inter-School Tournament had been resurrected this year in hopes of smoothing over some old grudges.

The spirit of cooperation was strong in the Ministry of Magic if not in the schools themselves.  Castiel didn’t presume to understand Durmstrang or Beauxbatons inner politics, but he had lived at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry his whole life, and Castiel knew the lines of tension in his home.

Bobby Singer had almost resigned when Dean’s name had appeared in the Tankard of Fire, but Headmaster Michael insisted that Dean was prepared for the challenges that lay ahead—even more so than the older students for whom the tasks had actually been designed.  The professors were divided by the quarrel, and the students had taken weeks to calm down from the uproar.

By the time November rolled around, Castiel was pretending to ignore Dean out of spite.  It wasn’t particularly believable, especially in light of the upcoming competition.

Everyone in Hogwarts could tell that Castiel Singer knew a moment of sheer envy when the First Task was revealed.

Dragons.  Why did Dean have all the luck?  Hungarian Horntails are some of the most fiercely protective parents in the animal kingdom—magical or muggle.  A more thorough study of the Horntail could completely revolutionize the entire magical world’s understanding of dragons as a whole.

And then Headmaster Michael explained what exactly the champions had to do: steal an egg from the nest.  Castiel rethought his opinion of Dean’s luck immediately.  To steal an egg from a nesting Horntail was suicidal.

Even as Selene entered the field of combat, Castiel was trying to fight his way free of the stands.  The excited students barred his way at every step.  The Beauxbatons student had succeeded in capturing her egg, but only by injuring her dragon.  Castiel collected his outrage and channeled it into successfully bypassing the Ravenclaws.  Hufflepuffs were easier to wade through, and Castiel found himself level with the Gryffindors at last.  There was one student in particular that he needed—Sam Winchester.

“What’s his plan?” Castiel yelled, trying to make himself heard over the screaming student body.  “Did he tell you anything?”

Sam’s answer was lost in the general cheering.  Castiel caught the younger boy’s shoulder and navigated their way down the last set of stairs.  The banners offered some degree of soundproofing under the stands, and Castiel directed the Second Year there.  “What did Dean say?” he repeated.

Sam looked at the ground, and barely whispered the hallowed words of Dean Winchester a loud.

“I’m Batman.”

. . .

_I’m Batman._

. . .

“What?” Castiel demanded, making Sam flinch.  “Beg your pardon,” Castiel corrected, blanking his expression.  “What does that mean?”

Sam shrugged.

Castiel counted to ten and then with the most polite tone possible, he informed Sam: “Your brother is an idiot.”

Sam nodded.

“We had best go rescue him,” Castiel decided.  “Where’s the Champions’ tent?”

“It’s too late,” Sam protested, pointing across the field.  “Dean is next.”

Castiel watched Dean marching out into the field.  The other boy looked confident; maybe Dean had a plan after all.  Then Dean cautiously approached the wary dragon.  “Hello, dragon . . . nice dragon.”

“He’s doomed,” Castiel delivered flatly.

Dean touched the nest and barely rolled in time to avoid the jet of flame issued by the irate mother.  Castiel cast about for a plan; Slytherins normally needed time to plan, but Dean Winchester was unintentionally training Castiel to think on his feet.

The school broom shed wasn’t far away.

_Pros: Brooms can fly, they carry up to two people, and they’re fast._

_Cons: School brooms are notoriously unreliable, and dragons can also fly._

A second stream of fire made the decision for Castiel.  Brooms it was.

Castiel hexed open the lock at a distance, and grabbed the first broom that he touched.  It was a Cleansweep 3, and the tail was a proper mess, but it flew with some speed if perhaps not the best direction.

The Teachers’ Box had been warded to repel anything from inside the arena, but it was the only place not warded against entering the arena during the tasks.  It was the only weak spot in the warding, and Castiel had to fly upwards fifty feet to take advantage of the chink.  He took great pleasure in knocking off several hats as he zoomed through the narrow opening.  By this time most of the field was alight, and Dean (who had somehow gotten the egg) was running out of places to hide.  Castiel bent over the broom willing it to move faster.

Dean had spotted the errant Fifth Year by then.  “What do you think you’re doing?” Dean bellowed, completely oblivious to the approaching dragon.

Castiel got a handful of the other boy’s robe, and yanked upward just as the dragon flambéed the spot they had just vacated.  Dean continued to swear, and Castiel looked past the irrational younger boy to survey the field below.  It was entirely alight in flames, and the Hungarian Horntail was following them upwards while Dean continued to demand what Castiel was doing.

Castiel sighed.  “I am raising you from perdition.”

Dean didn’t have a repeatable answer for that, but at least he was talking to Castiel again.


End file.
